


That one where Joe Biden is a French teacher and Donald Trump thinks they're rivals

by Anonymous



Series: It's a crack ship [1]
Category: Political RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Everything is a suprise good luck man, I'm not tagging this dumpster fire, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Donald Trump is starting his 3rd year of college at the University of Pennsylvania. Little does he expect his childhood Rival, Joe Biden, to walk in as his French 301 professor.Joe Biden, a charming young genuis who teaches french, never would have expected to see his childhood crush when he walked into class that day.Side by side, the two grow as people, and learn about themselves. Will they be able to over come their own internal stories and realize they're made for each other? Or will they crash and burn in a glorious fire?This was written for my best friend as a way to cope with the world. Please do not take it seriously. If any of the people in here ever read it, my life would be complete.
Relationships: Barack Obama/Mike Pence, Joe Biden/Donald Trump, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: It's a crack ship [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096169
Comments: 43
Kudos: 56
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't apologize for art. Luckily, this isn't art. Take this glorious masterpiece and weep.

The chilly morning air did nothing to dampen the spirits of the two men walking through Penn University. Other students walk both briskly to class and meandered in the courtyard. It was the first day of school, and the excitement of the students was almost palpable.

"I don't know Mikey, I'm the best of the Best, but if I do as badly as I did last year, I'll be the Biggest Loser." Donald Trump, a young upstart businessman, said to his best friend and long-time co-CEO, Mike Pence. 

"Listen, all you have to do is get through this semester, then it's one semester and another year! You're already halfway there Donnie." It was Donald's third year of his Business Degree, and after he completed it, he would be branching out to start his very own business.

It was silent for a while as Donald thought about the coming year. He had never been too good at school and studying, but he put in extra time to make up for it. He hoped that this year he would be able to get by without a tutor, they reminded him that he wasn't as great as he portrayed himself as. And, it always felt as though they thought he was stupid. That was fake news, of course, he was the smartest man to come out of his family in generations, he was revolutionary, the way of the future. 

"You got me there. Say, how are you feeling about this year?" His voice didn't waver, nor did his steps falter. Mike had always done well in school, despite how much he despised it.

"Well, Mother is going to be away this year, so it'll be a little boring, but that's nothing new."

"You're never without her, why is she leaving?" 

"She has business across the sea and figured it would be best if I stayed." He was looking away, his hands shoved behind his suit jacket covered back. His words were stiff and clipped.

"You are the Greatest of all time Pence. You'll be fine without your Mother for a semester, just like I'll be fine. Anything else is fake news." 

Suddenly a loud bell rang throughout the school. It was five minutes till 8 am, and they both had to be in class soon. Donald looked over to his friend, only to see him sprinting to his building. The blonde man saw his building nearby and walked over into it. His first class of the day was French 301, which he was required to take and hated. It was on the first floor luckily.

As he walked over to his class, he cringed. Last year of french had been horrible, he barely passed and had to spend the entire semester studying nonstop. Three different tutors quit due to his inability to retain the information. It had been like this since he was a child; even though he managed to always get second best in his classes. He had had to work his ass off for his scores. 

As he entered the class, he surveyed the other students. There were a couple that he recognized from last year such as Bernie Sanders. Bernie was a couple of years older than Donald but had been exceptionally nice to him last year. Then there was AOC. He could never remember her name. She terrified him. In the corner, he saw Pete Buttigieg talking to Kamala Harris. They weren't too close as far as he knew but shared friends. There were a couple of other students milling about, making maybe a total of ten to fifteen students total. That meant he couldn't blend into the crowd of students as he did last year. Contrary to popular belief, he hated standing out; it made it easier for people to see his mistakes. His biggest fear was people seeing that he wasn't as perfect as he tried to make himself out to be.

As he settled into a seat near the back, the bell rang, and everyone else sat down. The classroom quieted down slowly. The teacher still hadn't shown up. It was rumored that the 301 French teacher was a young genius, famous for his intelligence and charm. Donald hadn't bothered to look at who taught this particular class though, as it didn't quite matter to him. 

All traces of sound left as the teacher walked in. Donald looked up, the strong-looking man seemed familiar, but he couldn't place him. He chalked it up to seeing him around campus before. 

The man didn't speak as he walked over to his desk and placed down his bags. Absently, Donald noticed that although he was tall, he was a couple of inches shorter than him. His curly brown hair was cut neat and short. The suit he adorned seemed to be well worn in but suited his overall image perfectly. Donald couldn't help to admit that the rumors of his looks were true. If he was as young as people said he was, the same age as Donald himself, then the rumors about his intellect must also be true. The man looked up to view the students of the class, and their eyes locked. Embarrassed to have been caught staring, Don looked away quickly and focused on his closed laptop.

The man cleared his throat to speak, "Good morning students. As I'm sure you're aware by now, my name is Professor Joe Biden. I know that I am young, younger than some of you I am sure. That being said, I am still your professor and I expect you to treat me as such..." Donald couldn't focus as his breath caught in his throat.

That's why he recognized this professor. They had known each other since they were kids and lost track of one another after high school. It had been 10 years since then. Ever since 2nd grade they had been academic rivals, all the way until Biden graduated 2 years early to pursue a Degree in French. Their rivalry had fostered an intense hatred between them that only grew as they did. Donald had always wanted to be the smartest kid in class and had to work day and night to do so. Joe, on the other hand, effortlessly aced everything. It took him no time at all to master any subject thrown his way.

That was likely why he was teaching Donald's 301 French class right now. After he had graduated, Donald kept tabs on him and occasionally checked to see how he was doing. Every time he looked into the infinitely smart man, he found that he had climbed the academic ladder higher and higher. Seeing this fueled Donald's desire to climb the business ladder. He couldn't let Joe outpace him, even if it was in a completely different realm. So he helped take over his dad's multi-million dollar business. After a couple of years running it alongside his best friend Mike, he decided he wanted to start his own business. To ensure it didn't flop, he enrolled at Penn University to get a Business Degree. It just so happened that Mike was working on his Ph.D. at the very same college. 

After he graduated, he would start his Business, alongside the one he took over from his father, and Mike would be the co-founder. 

Donald was snapped out of his thoughts by the sounds of students shuffling around. Computers were being opened, and the Professor was cueing up a presentation. The syllabus. Of course, this was still a class after all.

The next 3 hours passed without incident, and Donald managed not to gawk at the man Joe had become since High School. Amazingly, Donald managed not to notice the man barely managing to pay attention to his lessons as he avoided looking at the boy from his childhood. Joe had noticed Donald as soon as he entered the classroom. He had been so stunned that he hadn't been able to speak for a couple of minutes. Giving his opening speech managed to calm him down and settle his nerves, but just barely.

As class ended, the students filed out. Joe fell into his seat with a loud sigh. There was no way he would be able to teach this small of a class with his childhood crush in it. He remembered fondly the days of the past in which he would try to impress the loud boy. It never worked of course, but that just drove him further. Even graduating early in part had been to impress Donald. It hadn't worked, sadly, but by that point, the young man had realized Donald probably didn't swing that way. Even if he did, by High School Joe was able to pick up on Donald's apparent hatred of him. That didn't stop him from trying to show off obviously, but it was more out of a desperate need for Donald's attention.

"Hey uh, Joe, how was the first day of class my fellow Professor?" A voice startled Joe out of his musing. It was Barack, his long time best friend. For a long time, he had been his only friend. But thanks to the soft-spoken man, he had recently begun to befriend a couple of new people.

"Hello, Barack." He said simply. It felt as though his brain was broken. 

"That bad?"

"No, no of course not. I have a great batch of students this year. It's just," The words didn't come. How could he explain to him the dilemma he was in? Barack knew he was Bisexual and had never judged him for it. He had been the first person Joe had come out to in his early 20s. But the situation with Donald was completely different. He couldn't kick a student out. But he didn't know how he would survive 2 semesters of this.

"Joey, you know you can uh, tell me anything. What's on your mind?" His friend layed a strong hand on his shoulder. Leave it to Barack to know exactly how to comfort him.

"It's one of my students... I knew him as a child." He wasn't sure Barack would even hear him. He didn't want to admit the issue. It made him look weak.

"And what about it, he gonna give you trouble?"

"No, I doubt he even remembers me." 

"Then what's wrong?" The words weren't meant as an attack of course. But even still, Joe flinched. It sounded too much like an accusation.

"When we were younger. It's silly of course. But when we were younger, I was sweet to him. He hated me, for whatever reason. I guess the years and distance didn't change how I feel." He expected laughter at his admission, only to find his friend sitting heavily into a nearby chair. 

"That's uh, rough buddy," Barack said, his voice strained.

"Yeah."

"Who is it?" 

"A guy my age, one Donald J. Trump." He muttered. He almost hated how it sounded to say out loud and cringed. To his surprise, his friend seemed to brighten instantly and leaned forwards with a bright grin.

"I know him! He was in my Economics class last year, and is in the advanced level this year! Great student, even if he isn't the brightest." Barracks laughter echoed in the room. Joe couldn't help but lighten up, if minutely, at his friend's joy.

"That sounds like him. He studied constantly when we were young. He worked his ass off the get top scores. If it weren't for me he would be top of the class every year." 

"Joe! You can offer to tutor him! I'm sure he'll need one if that's his track record! And who better for a tutor than the teacher? Then you two can get closer!" Despite Barack's energy, Joe found his stomach sinking. 

"You know that would never work. First of all, student-teacher relationships are frowned upon. And, he hates me, and is too proud to ask for help." He couldn't help but sigh. It sounded like a fairy tale. He could spend time with Donald, help him learn, grow closer, maybe become friends even! Maybe closer... But it would never work.

"You know Dean JFK doesn't care as long as you're not giving them an unfair advantage or being a creep." Barack was winking. Joe's pessimism didn't seem to put a damper on his idea.

"Even so, he would never let me tutor him. There's still that." 

"I'll suggest it! He's in my class again this year, when he inevitably comes in for additional help, I'll uh, point him your way! And because he cares more about his ego than his uh pride, he'll take my advice. He seems like the type to swallow his pride temporarily to appear better in the long run." Barack was practically glowing with pride at his idea at this point. 

"Barack I- I don't know. Even if he does come to me for help, I doubt anything will come of it. You know how bad I am with people. And, my stutter gets worse when I'm nervous, I won't be able to say a word."

"Stop making excuses, it's not uh, like you Joe. If it fails, it fails. What do you have to lose?" His friend leaned back and crossed his arms, a hopeful smile adorning his face. How could Joe say no to that?

"Alright. But if this goes awry, I blame you." He couldn't help but smile a little himself. There were butterflies in his stomach. Maybe this could work.

The next week, when Donald went to his Economics professor seeking additional material, Professor Obama pointed him in the way of a potential tutor, one Professor Biden. He was a renowned teacher, the best of his generation. There was no way the teacher would turn down a student in need. For extra insurance, the Professor shared that, between the two of them, it would be a great chance for the professor to break out of his social isolation, and a little teaching one on one would be good for him.

Donald refused, saying that although he appreciated the offer, he'll be fine by himself. He was pretty sure it's fake news that Joe was a social hermit, no way was a man like that NOT surrounded by adoring fans. That thought, however, he kept to himself as he headed home.

-

The first month of the semester passed without incident. As one might expect with such a small specialized class, the students quickly befriended each other. Donald was reluctant to join in on their group, and they respected his desire to remain alone. A couple of his classmates messaged him now and then still to see how he was and remind him he's free to hang out. He'll never admit it, but he enjoyed their offers of friendship.

For the most part, Donald wanted to hang out with them. But there was one issue. Somehow, the professor has been included in the French class friend group. No one knew how it happened, but as they were all around the same age, no one seemed to care. For reasons, he couldn't explain, being friends with the same people who were friends with Joe made him nervous. He didn't want to end up near his childhood rival and make a fool of himself. Why he would care, he didn't know.

The other students quickly picked up on the dynamic between the two men. Elizabeth Warren was the first to point out how their professor started to act when he noticed Donald outside of class. It was a Wednesday evening, and the students were hanging out together without their professor for the first time in the past two weeks; the conversation naturally turned to him.

"All I'm saying is, he barely stutters when we all hang out. You can't even tell he has a stutter in class most of the time. Then, Donald walks into the classroom, or we bring him up, and the man falls apart!" Elizabeth said with a smirk. The others laughed softly.

"Okok, you might be onto something. The other day, I arrived at class early yeah?" AOC started, "and it was just me and our dear Professor talking about false cognates. Then! Donald comes in, sits down. And out of nowhere, the guy can't talk!"

Bernie butted in, "Hey! Something like that happened to me too! Except for the other way around. I was getting groceries," 

Pete interrupted, "At the new organic market?"

Everyone laughed, he had been pushing them to go there since he heard about it. "Yes Petey, at the organic market. Anyways! Weirdest thing. I go to get my carrots, and I see Donald. As usual, I went to ask him about his wellbeing. As I walk over, I see Joe. I was about to call out to him, but he saw me, then Donald, turned red as a plum! I shouted hello at him, but he was already running off!" 

"I'm telling you, something's going on between them." Elizabeth restated.

"Well, I know he's said a couple of times he had a thing for some guy a while ago, but nothing happened." This wasn't new information, everyone knew the Professor was Bisexual, but Kamala wanted to hint at a possible cause behind his behavior. After Vlad Putin and Kim Jung Un had been seen kissing on campus, Pete started to talk about the queer community, and the majority of the French group revealed their part in it. It wasn't that surprising to the few straight members of the group, and luckily, no one cared. What was surprising, was that Professor Biden had also shared identity in the LGBTQ+ community. 

"Do you think something happened between them?" Whispered Hilary Clinton conspiratorially. 

"No way man, Donald seems straight. Plus, the Professor is way too good for him." It wasn't a secret that Nancy Pelosi didn't think too much of their classmate.

There was a chime from Micheal Bloomberg's phone. He opened it, and then looked at the others confused. "Since when did The professor offer to tutor? Oh, nevermind he just sent me a message?" 

"What?" John Lewis said as he, along with the others, pulled out his phone. They had all received an email and a separate text message from him.

Al Gore began to read the email out loud:

"Dear students, as the semester progresses, I want to offer my continued support to you. If you shall ever need help, my office and time are yours. I am dedicated to your success, and with such a small class size, there shouldn't be too many people to divide my time between. I am willing to offer to tutor free of charge, even if it's not for my class. Have good evening students, and feel free to contact me with any questions. Your professor, Joe Biden."

"He messaged me too? Ima read that." Al gore said next, and then as he stated he would, began to read his text:

"Okay so, keep this between us (shit there goes that sorry profess.) but don't take me up on that email I just sent, It meant for one person in the class and I'm trying to get that person to take me up on the study session offer. I mean if you need help I'll help but, I want someone, in particular, to ask for one on one help." 

"Holy shit. The professor is making moves on one of us." John Lewis whispered reverently.

"Okay, which one of you guys didn't get the second message?" Bernie demanded gleefully, disregarding the professor's wish for privacy as it had already been broken before they knew of it.

There was a chorus of the friends saying they had all gotten the second message.

Kamala smirked from where she was sitting with her girlfriend Hillary. "Well, we're all of the students from the class. There's only one other student who isn't with us. That is, the student who didn't get the second message." 

"Wait, who?" AOC said.

"Donald."

A stunned silence descended upon the group. It was like they had been hit by a time bomb. And then, chaos. They were all chatting over each other, until Bernie, who had the most seniority, raised his hand and silence descended on the group.

"I know him the best, I'll message him and ask if he plans to take the professor up on his offer." Everyone immediately agreed.

"Good evening Donald. Do you plan to study with Professor Biden as he has just offered all of us, students?" Bernie voiced the words as he was typing.

"No! Don't send that, it's too suspicious!" John Lewis shouted. 

"Here let me see," Pete took Bernie's phone. "Hey, I was thinking about taking the professor up on his offer to study? What do you think about it?" He hit send.

Donald, at his house miles away from the rambunctious group of college students, received the message as he was hanging out with Mike, and trying to get through his homework. He read it and then checked his email in confusion.

"What's up?" Mike asked as he realized his friend had stopped working at school.

"My French Professor emailed us offering his help. And one of the other students asked what I thought about it? Sounds like fake news." Donald muttered as he puzzled over the email. Why would Bernie care about what he thought about Sleepy Joe's phony tutoring offer?

He sent a text back saying he didn't care for it and didn't need the help either way. Across town, his classmates sat in quiet awe. The professor was making moves on DONALD. Elizabeth had been right.

Nonetheless, Donald didn't know that. "Maybe you should take up his offer. God knows you need it." Mike said.

"No way. Do you remember how I knew him as a kid? And how much of a fake asshole he was?"

"Sure, but people change. And Donald, again, maybe he wasn't an ass, maybe you were just seeing things that weren't there." Mike knew his friend needed help, and that a different teacher had recommended the French Professor as a tutor at the beginning of the semester.

"He's a giant, the biggest, phony. I don't need his help." 

"You would benefit from it. He's offering free help. You suck at French. You're going to fail at this rate. On top of your other classes? You can't keep this up." Donald loathed to admit it, but Mike had a point. His best friend knew him too well.

"Well, if he does help me study, I can finally prove I'm doing better than him..." He monotonously said. Mike smiled indulgently.

"Exactly. Get him to come over, help you bring up your grades, and show off how much better you are than him." 

"That's perfect! He's nothing but a french professor! He'll be awed by my success!" Donald was smiling widely now. That just might work. He grabbed his phone and replied to the email, saying he would appreciate the help, and could they set up a tutoring session for the French class sometime soon?

Joe was sitting by his computer anxiously awaiting a reply to the email. He hoped his students, now friends, wouldn't figure out his scheme. And he hoped that maybe, by some twist of fate, Donald would take him up on the offer to help.

He knew it was selfish, pointless even. But he had seen how Donald was falling behind in his class, how he always seemed exhausted in class. Barack said it was the same with his class too, and knowing Donnie, it was like that for all of his classes.

It was driven by worry mostly. Yes, worry.

And then he got a reply. It was from Donald. He wanted a full tutor session. And soon. The tired professor almost couldn't believe it. Eagerly, he replied, saying that it was 'feasible', and would this coming Saturday work?

To his surprise, Donald replied immediately, saying it was fine and unless the Professor wanted somewhere else, Donald's place was fine.

To no one's surprise, Joe almost couldn't breathe for a minute. His plan was working. He was going to be helping tutor Donald... In 4 days... At his place... He pinched himself. It wasn't a dream. 

The small homely apartment couldn't contain his excitement. He replied before he could forget, saying that would be okay, then, called Barack and told him what had happened. Both professors resembled school children more than highly educated and respected professionals.

That night, barely anyone could sleep with the apprehension they felt for what was to come this semester.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read and find out lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe you're still reading this. The election hit you hard too? God. Go get some therapy. You'll need it after this

It was a Saturday morning. Rain clouds were blocking out the sun, and the wind ruffled the trees. That did nothing to stop the spring in the step of a particular French Professor as he walked up to a lofty bachelor pad. He was dressed in a worn-in pair of jeans, and an oversized hoodie from his college, fitting for the current weather. His curly hair was further messed up by the wind.

Joe almost couldn't contain his excitement as he knocked on Donald's door, and adjusted the bag he carried holding a french textbook and some other material. It was the agreed-upon time. 

Donald walked over to his door with trepidation in his step. He couldn't remember why he agreed to this. He was wearing socks to combat the chill of his place, some sweatpants, and a casual T-shirt. His hair was impeccably styled as usual. As the door opens, he was stunned by the sight in front of him. Some cute twink with a bag was at his door, not the Professor. 

"Hey," Joe said with a small wave. Donald mentally did a double-take. What was he thinking? He couldn't even recognize his childhood rival outside of his professional attire. Oh god, he had thought the phony man was a cute twink. What was wrong with him?

"Hey." He said, after too long. Joe looked inside curiously, and Donald remembered he was supposed to invite him inside.

"Come in, do you want anything to drink?" He said as he moved and opened the door. He chastised himself, remember, he was showing his rival how much better of he was.

"No I- I'm okay. Uh, where. Where do you want me to set this stuff down?" The bag was clutched tightly in Joe's arms, holding him down at the moment. He couldn't believe this was happening. He kept reminding himself that he was here to help a student. A cute student. Who he had known since a kid. Who had looked at him... In a way, he couldn't place when he had opened the door. A student who got glasses of water despite Joe saying he didn't need any. 

Donald gestured to an elaborate wooden table with 4 comfortable looking chairs. Quietly, Joe sat his belongings down and moved into a chair. The other man placed a cup of water in front of him silently and then moved to sit across from his teacher.

"So, where do you wanna start Teach?" He said with a smirk. Joe's breathe caught in his throat. This was a mistake. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why did he let Barack convince him to do this? 

"I, uh, we could. I. Here," He pulled out the textbook from his bag, along with everything else. Donald was looking at him with mirth in his eyes. He thought the professor had been thoroughly awed by his obvious success, and that it was obvious that he had won the rivalry. There was no way Joe could compete. The emotion he felt was pride, and it was definitely because he was winning. 

"What are. Where's your area- what's your weakest area?" Focusing on his job should help him calm down. His heart was pounding. He had a responsibility to help this STUDENT improve.

Donald suddenly lost some of his confidence. "I don't have the BEST control of past and future tense." He muttered. He couldn't believe it. He had forgotten about this part. How could he seem like the winner if he had to admit he sucked at the thing Joe was best at?

"Oh me too! It took me. It was years until I could. Unit I could manage to-to understand them." Joe felt jittery because Donald's attention was focused on him. He couldn't speak straight, let alone think. 

"Uuh, here..." He dug through the book and opened a notebook. He titled the page, then flipped it towards Don. "What do you know pretty well?" Donald was looking down at his neat handwriting. He had seen it before of course... It was just... Something he had never been able to get over for some reason. He couldn't explain it, but the written words always caused a tug in his heart.

The next two hours passed without them noticing. Joe wasn't able to relax and only got more nervous as Donald relaxed. When he started to smile freely, Joe has on the idea of breathing. When he started to laugh towards the end, Joe gave up on the idea of surviving. So this is why he had been head over heels for this man since he was a kid. 

By the end of the time, Donald seemed to have a much better understanding of the lesson. He couldn't help the way he relaxed during the time. Joe didn't make him feel idiotic at all, he almost managed to forget they were Rivals and not long time friends. The other man seemed to be trying to preserve a cold uncaring air, but his words betrayed him. He was cracking jokes and smiling now and then as much as he tried to hide it. It was nice to know he was human. Maybe he wasn't such a phony. 

Donald needed to get up multiple times to refill the others drink though, which made him laugh more and more each time it happened. It was as though the Professor was in a desert and hadn't seen water in years.

By the time Joe had packed up his belongings and was standing to go, it was as though Donald was a completely different man. It seemed all of his walls had fallen. 

As Donald showed him out the door, Joe thought about whether Barack would be free tonight. He was going to need his best friend to unpack these past two hours.

And Barack was there, laughing and smiling as his best friend screamed about all the smiles, the accidental hand touches. Their plan was working beautifully, and another tutoring session was already set up for in two weeks, again at Donald's.

-

It was their fourth tutoring session, and Joe was more anxious than ever. Things had been going well, and Donald seemed to be completely at ease with him now. It was almost like they were, friends? As unlikely as it seemed, they got along pretty well. And this week, Joe wanted to invite Donald to come to hang out with the rest of the French Class Friends.

He knew that Donald had always turned down those invites, but the rest of his friends (after all, it seemed like his students this year were more like his friends that he taught) insisted it was because Donald had been avoiding HIM. But then again, they seemed to think the two of them were meant to be or something, so he didn't always trust their judgment.

Nonetheless, he wanted to throw a shot at inviting Donald. Maybe he would accept, and they could hang out, and it would be nice? 

For the entirety of the two hours, Joe was more fidgety than normal. By now, Donald had realized the contrasts between his behavior teaching, around his friends/students, and when Donald was around. He was certain it was because of their ongoing rivalry. There was no other explanation. 

Luckily, Donald was certain he was doing better. His grades had increased phenomenally thanks to the professor, and he was better rested than he could ever remember. And although he would never admit it, seeing his childhood rival fidget as they hung out alone always felt like a win. He didn't know why, and he didn't think about it. 

Currently, they were working through one of Donald's other classes. He had found French incredibly easy to understand after the first tutoring session, and was able to focus in class better than he could have ever imagined. Maybe it was due to being on the edge of his seat listening to Joe talk. 

As per usual, the guy seemed to be cold as could be, more so today than usual. Donald had started to suspect that maybe he was misinterpreting his behavior for coldness when it was something else. But that was only in moments of weakness.

Now, watching him flutter his hands over the text as he tried to explain science in a way Donald would understand, was most definitely not a moment of weakness. Nothing was endearing about the way he tripped over his words or the way his eyes darted to his students to make sure he was paying attention. His heart didn't lurch every time the other would pause and smile, take a deep breath, and asked if he was following?

As he said, no weakness here. The other man was infuriating as he had always been. 

The lesson came to a close, and Joe stood up. He gathered his things quickly, but instead of running out the door as he normally did, he stood still.

"Everyone. Is uhh. Everyone's hanging out? Tomorrow? We- were gonna go... We were thinking of going to. Maybe head to the beach?" God. Joe couldn't believe himself. Why was he trying to invite Donald to hang out with him and his friends again? The guy hated him.

"Yeah?" Despite himself, he wore an easy smile. He couldn't place the emotion of seeing Joe as this created, but it was warm and fuzzy.

"They were. Well more like I was... We want to know if? Well if you were- you were interested of course! Would you want to? You could come. If you wanted to. To come."

"Who's everyone?"

"Oh! Of course! I'msosorry. It's gonna be Me. Of-of course. And- well Barack, Barack is my friend... And some kids! Some of the other. Not students there- their friends I guess... Some of the other- other student-friends." Joe was shaking slightly where he stood. He started to walk to the door and Donald trailed after him.

"Sounds fun. What time?" He said. His voice was strong and assured. 

"Oh." Joe couldn't believe this was working. He wanted to come. "We were... We're meeting at the beach... At noon..." He mumbled as his heart stilled.

"Sounds like fun. Do you wanna send me the address? Or are we going together?" His wink came out of nowhere. Donald didn't know what he was doing, or why he had said that. This man only came around to help him study, probably out of a sense of obligation. They hated each other. They were rivals.

But the way Joe's eyes went wide, made him forget all of that. Maybe there was some merit in saying that.

"I- if you wanted- we could! I mean. Of course, we don't. There's no NEED. To. But... We... We-we could?" Where his heart had stilled earlier, it was going a mile a minute. There was no way this was happening. Donald had WINKED at him. After saying that! This wasn't real. The way the other guy was smiling at him, the way his eyes crinkled around the edges, his shoulders set at ease. He seemed completely at ease and happy. There was no hint of malice or teasing. Well, maybe some teasing, but not in the bad way one would expect.

"Cool. I can come to pick you up an hour or two before. I'll shoot you a text." 

"Okay." It was a whisper, but it was something. 

Joe opened the door and practically ran out to his car. He jumped in, started the car, and called Barack. Dimly, he noticed Donald was still standing in the doorway, looking at him with almost? Fond confusion. 

He pulled out of the driveway and onto the road as Barack answered.

"Hey, Joey boy! How was uh tutoring prince charming!" 

"Holy fucking shit Barack. He's gonna kill me."

"That good?"

"He said yes."

"To uh what exactly?" 

"The beach tomorrow. He's gonna pick me up and drive me." Joe couldn't help but remember the way he had looked at him, the way his breath died in his throat.

"Congratulations! He is aware of how long of a drive it is right? Especially since it'll be... Just the two of you?" His best friend's voice was teasing, but it didn't help clear Joe's mind at all.

"Oh my God. We're gonna be alone. For an hour straight." 

"Joey, you're alone with him for TWO hours every two weeks. It's nothing new." Again, the teasing in his voice.

"Yeah, but this time we won't be studying. We'll just be hanging out. Alone. Together. In his car. On our way to the beach. To hang out. As friends." 

"Yes."

"I'm going to die Barack." 

"No, you aren't Joe."

"Yes, I am."

"You haven't died yet."

"This is going to finally be it, the thing that kills me." 

"I'll be sure to mourn your passing for the appropriate amount of time."

"Shut up. How's Mike?"

"YOU shut up. Again, nothing is going on between me and Micheal."

"Sure. And when I walked in on you about to kiss him last week?" Joe knew his best friend well and knew how much he liked Donald's best friend. They had met through Donald funnily enough. Mike had been trying to find Joe for some reason, and instead ran into Barack. Barack refused to tell him why Donald's best friend was seeking him out in the first place, but the two of them had become great friends very quickly. They seemed to bond over Joe's struggle with Donald oddly enough.

"I already told you it was a misunderstanding! We weren't going to kiss, I was just... The light was hitting his face and..." Barack sighed dreamily as Joe parked his car and leaned back. 

"Boys." 

"Boys." His best friend echoed.

"I just got home, I gotta grade some papers. See you tomorrow Barack."

"Good luck. And congratulations." The phone call ended. Joe sunk further into the seat. His life had become a movie it felt. 

It was almost like... Donald enjoyed his company. He rarely ever seemed to be anything beyond happy when they were together. He was always smiling and laughing. And there were moments when Joe would look at him and he would be leaning forward, eyes soft, smile gentle. There was no way a man who hated him would look at him like that.

And he seemed... Oddly happy to accept the invite to the beach. He wasn't overly delighted, but the way his voice had softened... And how his eyes stayed planted on Joe... He didn't even argue, he had gone so far as to offer to drive Joe there. That wasn't the hatred the Professor had always feared.

"Gah!" He shouted as he started to think of his crushes face. No one had a right to look like that, he thought. He felt his face heating up again and got out of his car. As he walked to his apartment he tried to even his breathing. Nervous excitement ran through him. 

It had been three months since Barack had first proposed his plan. And somehow, it was working. He would have to do something for his best friend. The man was an angel.

-

The next day, Donald showed up at 10 am and knocked on Joe's door. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the shy man in a pair of beach shorts and a pastel patterned muscle shirt wasn't it. He was wearing sandals that shouldn't suit him as much as they did and had a beach bag hanging over his shoulder.

Donald let himself appreciate it for a second, and in one of his now too often moments of weakness, admited that the other looked... Nice. Cute even. He had a nervous smile and his slightly shorter stature forced him to look up at Donald. 

"Ready to go?" He strangled out. He needed to stop this train of thought. It was going too far. It had been way past too far for a while now if he was being honest. How did he get here? Just yesterday he was going on about how they were enemies. Even then... He had to admit that all the while he was almost adoring the other. Their friendship was growing too fast.

"Yeah." Joe smiled widely. He took a moment to breathe. He was expecting Donald to be dressed for the beach, was terrified of having to deal with that for an hour alone, but it seemed that Donald had opted to remain in casual clothes until they got to the beach.

Donald turned sharply and headed to his car. If Joe didn't know better he would say the other man seemed... Flustered? But he couldn't tell why. He must just be nervous.

He placed his beach bag in the trunk of Donald's Jeep wordlessly, a small smile still playing on his lips. He wasn't sure why, but he felt less nervous today than normal.

"You good to go?" Donald asked as he buckled up in the driver's seat. Joe smiled at him.

"Yeah." 

"Okay." The Jeep started up and they pulled out and onto the road. Donald had to admit, the curly-haired man seemingly at ease, with the wind whipping through his hair, was a sight to behold. He thought back to the comment that had slipped out of his mouth yesterday, and how Joe had reacted. How it made Donald feel on top of the world. Maybe it was time to admit they were becoming friends and not just rivals at each other's throats. Maybe it was time to admit they haven't been rivals for a long time now.

"You ever been to the beach?" Joe said suddenly. Donald's thoughts instantly cleared out of his head.

"Not any time recently..." 

The car ride was easy after that. Joe couldn't believe how little nerves he felt. It was as though he had finally let go of his worries. Donald was taking him to the beach, willingly. He was happily taking him to the beach. To hang out with their friends. And he kept glancing over at him, something in his eyes. Something GOOD.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man what are you doing. Go to sleep. Stop reading a 16k Trump/Biden Fanfic. It's not worth your time. You're better than this.

When they arrive, Donald parked nearby the only other vehicle. Barack jumped out of the small car and headed over. Joe slid out of the massive Jeep and was about to run over to his friend when he heard Donald talking.

"Oh my God, that's the guy Mikey has the Hots for." He said in awe. Joe stopped, delighted glee filling him up.

"So you noticed too! I can't get Barack to admit something is going on between them, but I know there is." Donald looked over and down at Joe, who was leaning into the car now. A smile broke out across his face and he leaned closer to whisper:

"You know, don't tell him I said this, but I can't get Mike to shut up about him! Every time we talk it's all Barack Barack Barack! Nothing else!" Donald said, giddy energy eating him up. Joe honest to God GIGGLED, and lord helps him, Donald almost felt like a hypocrite for a moment. 

Then Barack appeared behind Joe.

"What are you whispering about over here without me my fine fellow Americans?" He said loudly, making Joe jump and twirl around.

"Barack! Just the guy I was looking for!" He greeted. For a moment Donald thought he would tell the other what he had just said, but he didn't.

"The others not here yet?" He said instead.

"Nope! AOC and Bernie should be here soon though, and so should the others. Now, what are you doing here not studying young man?" Suddenly he's Professor Obama, chastising a student. Donald picked up on the teasing, but nausea filled him none the less. He didn't know these people he remembers.

"I should be asking what you're doing here not teaching dear professor." He joked back, a smile playing across his face in the perfect facade. He heard Joe chuckle, and then a different kind of nausea hit him.

"Good one Donnie Boy." The man said.

Joe stood up and looked back at Donald with a happy smile. Donald turned to jump out of his car to avoid that smile. He locked the Jeep and joined Joe and Barack. 

The day passed slowly for Donald, and he couldn't figure out if he wanted it to last longer or end. On one hand, Joe being so carefree among the other people was almost religious. Seeing him in the water made Donald want to apologize to his best friend for all of his teasing. Sitting beside him as he dried off and talked to his friends made him realize what he had been feeling.

On the other hand, he couldn't relax. He felt like he was being scrutinized by everyone else. Bernie made it a point to come and talk to him multiple times, and even AOC sat and talked to him for a while. But he couldn't help but notice the whispers, and how, whenever he and Joe were together it felt like they were being watched. A couple of times he noticed Joe scowling at various people after they had mumbled or whispered something. It was the worse with Elizabeth. At one point Donald saw Joe talking to her almost harshly as she looked down and seemed apologetic. After that, she avoided both of them.

He didn't know what the issue was, but he feared the worse. Maybe they didn't want him there. Maybe they could tell how he was starting to feel for the Professor and disapproved. Maybe they thought he wasn't good enough to be friends with someone like Joe. 

Maybe they were right.

By the time they left the sun was setting, and it was getting cold. Joe was still slightly damp, and nothing to cover his lanky frame. As they headed to the car, Donald noticed him shivering slightly. When he unlocked the Jeep, he reached into the back and grabbed a spare sweater he kept there for cold days.

He handed it to Joe, who looked at him in confusion.

"What's this?"

"Something to keep you warm. Jeep won't be the hottest thing. Especially once the sun sets and the wind gets worse. I'll turn on the heat but it won't do much." Donald said without looking at Joe. If he had, he would see a stunned face. Joe couldn't process this. 

"Okay. Thank you." He whispered as he tugged on the sweater and hopped into the car. His ears were heating up, and privately he didn't think staying warm would be an issue anymore. His stomach tumbled as he buckled up. 

Donald allowed himself one look and instantly regretted it. Joe was huddled up against the still sun-warmed seats, Donald's oversized sweater loosely framing him. His hair was still damp and he was looking into his lap. 

Donald tried to focus on pulling the car out onto the rocky road, but his mind was racing. He was realizing his feelings much too quickly. At the same time, he was realizing that they had no place. Even if by some miracle Joe felt even a little bit the same he would never pursue it. His friends disliked Donald, and he didn't want to cause an issue between Joe and his friends. 

As they started to speed up, Joe tugged his legs into the seat, and inside the sweater. He was smiling. It smelt like Donald. He was completely content. His friends hadn't quite managed to avoid teasing him about his crush, but he barely managed to notice over his joy. Donald had come. They had fun. He gave him a fucking sweater. His sweater. To keep him warm. He hadn't even brought up that he was cold! But Donald had noticed. 

Donald noticed that Joe seemed tired, and turned on some music. As it filled the car, Joe's head fell against his knees, and he fell asleep.

The car drive was peaceful, and Donald did his best to drive as smoothly as possible to avoid waking the sleeping man beside him.

When he eventually pulled into Joe's apartment complex, he took a moment to simply take him in. His sleeping face was peaceful. The sight of him curled up in Donald's sweater did strange things to his heart. His breathing was even, his hair tangled, and his arms wrapped gently around himself. 

With a sigh, Donald leaned over and gently shook his shoulder.

"Joe... Joe, you're home... Wake up." He said as gently as he could. Joe mumbled something and leaned closer to Donald in his sleep. With stuttering breathe, Donald got out of his Jeep and walked around to Joe's door, which he opened.

Once again gently shaking his arm, he spoke. "Hey, Joe, wake up. I don't wanna have to carry you home because you're too tired to get up." He tried to tease.

Joe barely came out of his sleep, and with his sleep-addled brain replied, "Go ahead. My keys are in the left pocket of my bag." Before passing out again.

Feeling brave, Donald decided, fuck it. He grabbed the sleeping man's bag, pulled out his keys, and walked back to the still open Jeep door.

"Hey, you sure you want me to carry you home Rapunzel?" He asks as he woke Joe up again. Stubbornly, the man refused to fully come to consciousness and grumbles an affirmative. Before falling back asleep, Joe turned slightly to Donald.

As his heart came up his throat, Donald grabbed Joe's phone from the Dash, pocketed it, and then scooped Joe up in his arms. He closed the door with his hip, and then seeing as Joe's apartment was within sight of his car, decided it would be okay without locking it for a moment. He walked as smoothly as he could to Joe's door, as the slightly smaller man snuggled into his chest in his sleep. When he stopped at the door, he took a moment to appreciate what was happening. Joe Biden, an unfairly kinda, soft-spoken, loving, overall adorable man, was asleep him his arms. Was so far as snuggled into his chest in his arms. 

Needing to put the man down to unlock his door, Donald gently woke him up by shaking him slightly and saying his name. He was bleary, but once he was awake enough where Donald was confident he wouldn't fall over on his feet, he went to set him down.

"I'ma put you down for just a moment, then I'll take you inside okay?" He whispered to the man as his feet touched the ground.

To Donald's surprise, Joe simply leaned his head onto the other's shoulder and yawned as he grabbed Donald's arm to steady himself.

"Okay. My room is to the right in the back, easy to find." He mumbled before closing his eyes again. Donald didn't breathe as he unlocked the door and opened it. 

"I'm gonna pick you up now okay?" He said. Again, to Donald's surprise, Joe wrapped his arms around his neck and said a mumbled okay. As carefully as possible, he once again scooped up the exhausted man.

As he walked in, he took in his small apartment. It was the antithesis to Donald's. Where his was large and extravagant, Joe's was small and simple. Donald's was furnished with the best of everything, Joe seemed to have just whatever. It fit the intelligent French teacher perfectly. 

To top it all of, it smelt just like Joe times 100.

As he had said, it was easy to find his room, even in the dark. The door was wide open. Donald headed towards the large bed and gently layed Joe on top of it before pulling a blanket over him.

The man seemed to wake up a little for a moment, but only to say, "You're amazing. I love you." Before passing out for the final time.

Donald practically ran out of the apartment, and barely remembered to lock the door and throw down Joe's bag and phone. 

When he got to his car, he called Mike in a panic, told him what had happened, and apologized for all of the jokes about him and Barack.

-

When Joe woke up in the morning, he was tucked into his bed, wearing a large sweater that smelled way too familiar and strange at the same time. He remembered getting into Donald's car last night, and Donald giving him his sweater to ease the chilly night air. But he must have fallen asleep at some point because he couldn't remember arriving home.

He rolled over. Hopefully, Donald hadn't been too annoyed by him falling asleep. It was exactly the coolest thing for him to do. Hopefully, Joe hadn't said or done anything embarrassing. Barack often told him that when he was sleeping or roused from sleep it was as though all of his inhibitions disappeared.

Grabbing his phone and sitting up, he realized he had a couple of mixed texts from his friends, and one from Donald himself.

He opened Donald's first, a small amount of worry knawing at him. All it said was 'Sleep well Rapunzel'. His heart froze, and he didn't respond.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He mumbled, trepidation filling him. Was Donald mocking him? For falling asleep? 

There were other messages he knew he should check, but he decided to get ready for his day first.

As he showered and ate a breakfast of leftovers, he thought about yesterday. Quickly the small amounts of anxiety he felt turned to fear. He remembered how his friends had watched Donald and him, and how they kept making jokes about them. It had gotten to the point where he had had to tell Elizabeth to either stop insinuating things or leave. It was incredibly unlikely that Donald hadn't picked up on it. 

"Shit." What if Donald figured out that Joe liked him? That would explain why he didn't relax as much as he usually did, and why he would be messing with him in such a way. Plus, everyone yesterday made it pretty obvious.

He tugged at the sweater he was still wearing. When Donald gave it to him he had thought... But he could have easily just have been being nice. 

That made it even worse. Donald probably hated him. How could he not after that disaster of a day... And having to deal with Sleepy Joe Biden... He probably thought he was some kinda phony.

A thought hit him as he cleaned up his dishes. All he had to do was just... Back off. If he reigned himself in somehow around Donald, the other man wouldn't realize the depth of Joe's feelings. If he figured out the crush... Maybe he would assume he was wrong? A quiet scoff echoed in the apartment. Donald might not be the brightest, but the fact that he didn't figure out the boy from his childhood was head over heals months ago was astonishing. How he never figured it out when they were younger seemed less surprising now.

So he would simply... Figure out a way to be less nervous around him. Less joking might help, maybe if they studied somewhere in public instead of Donald's place? It was less private? The setting might dispel some of the obvious tells Joe sported.

So it was decided. Donald wouldn't figure it out and hate him. His plan was perfect. With a small smile, he skimmed through his other messages from his friends. Mostly it was asking if he got home okay and well wishes. He replied to them quickly and sat down to grade the recent papers. 

Donald's paper was towards the middle, and when Joe reached it he carefully moved it aside. He always maintained an air of professionalism when it came to his job, but he didn't think he'd be able to read Donald's analytical words right now.

Donald himself was in his loft, milling over the previous day too. He couldn't believe any of it had happened. 

Currently, he was waiting for Joe to respond to his text message and ask about the nickname. That was what Donald was most excited about. He didn't know if the other man would remember asking to be carried to his bed from the car, or, god forbid, the words he had said as Donald as he had tucked him into bed. But Donald couldn't help the thrill of excitement at the idea of a casual pet name.

He grabbed his phone to see if Joe had answered yet. To his surprise, the messaging app informed him that Joe had opened the message an hour ago, but not responded. He stared at his phone for a moment in confusion. As shut off as Joe tried to seem, he always asked about things like that. There was no reason he wouldn't respond to that kind of message with confusion.

A sudden new type of worry gripped the man. What if Joe remembered what had happened, and was mad at him? And the message was the cherry on top? 

He had known Joe since they were kids. He wasn't the type to rise to anger, ever. He favored rationalizing and talking things out. There was no logical reason for him to simply... Not respond. He never left people on read. 

The friendship that he had acknowledged only yesterday felt like it was slipping out of his fingers. Donald hated it. If Joe simply... Didn't want to be around him anymore, Donald didn't even know how he would take it. He wasn't just his childhood nemesis anymore. He was a friend.

Donald sighed.

His phone lit up with a message from Ben Shapiro. It was a reminder that next month they were going up to the Boys Cabin ™️. He shot back his thanks.

His friends all went up to the Cabin pretty often to relax and de-stress, but Donald had been too busy to go recently. He had agreed to go in late November however, to take a break from school. 

Tucker Carlson, Ben Shapiro, Ted Cruz, and Mike were the four people that made up his small but right nit friend group. They would do anything for each other. He and Mike were the closest, but the others were similarly dear to Donald.

He wondered what they would think of Joe? Would they want to hang out with him? Would Joe have fun with them?

Despite the way Joe seemed to have an impenetrable mind, Donald was certain he was a giant softie at his core. The way the French Class Friends immediately banded around him and befriended him was one of the many tells of it. And although he hid it for whatever reason, Donald could tell he cared for him a lot. He always put extra care into their tutoring and picked up on any confusion his friend had pertaining to lessons or concepts. 

It was endearing. 

"Fuckkkkkk." He muttered to his empty place. It would be two weeks until their next session, and he would only see the slightly shorter man 4 times in class until then. Sometimes they messaged each other, and that had slowly increased with time. But it wasn't near enough.

He considered his options. He could always just ask to hang out. But what would Joe think of that; would it send the wrong message? If he said he needed additional help for one of his classes maybe? 

That was perfect! Joe would never turn down studying. If Donald said he needed help, the Professor would give it. 

Donald shot him a message explaining the 'situation'. 

The response he received was most definitely not the one he expected half an hour later. Joe had said that he would be okay with the additional session but wanted to know if Bernie and Kamala could also come along. 

So he must have been right. Joe had to be mad at him or something. As far as Donald knew, no one else had ever asked the professor for additional help besides him, and both Bernie and Kamala were top students. There was nothing they could need help with.

Yet another sigh fell from his lips. He needed to gain back his new friend's trust. How to do that, he didn't know. But it would happen.

The next study session, at the college library, passed without incident. Donald could tell that whatever Kamala and Bernie were studying was something they already had mastered. 

The spite that rose in him was unfair to his classmates of course. But he couldn't help but internally bash on Phoney Kamala and Crazy Bernie.

That night when he got home he messaged Bernie and talked to him for a while. It was his version of an apology for the internally given insult earlier. 

The month passed by slowly. Joe seemed completely clammed down. Despite Donald's best efforts, he couldn't get the man to open up again. He didn't even laugh at the businessman's stellar jokes like he used to. 

A week before his trip to the cabin, Mike was listening to him lament about his issue with the complicated curly-haired man.

"Invite him along with us. To the Boys Cabin." Mike said at some point after Donald has finished whining about how he felt like he never got to see Joe.

"Why the hell would I do that?" He demanded.

"Simple. You guys can hang out. We'll be there too so it won't be awkward. If he doesn't want to go, no big deal." 

"I- the guy hates me now Mike. Why would he want to go up to some cabin in the woods with me."

"Because he doesn't hate you. And like I said. If he doesn't go, then no loss."

"Maybe... That. That just might work actually. Mike, you're a genius." Donald let out a breathless laugh. His best friend preened at him.

"Well? Message him." 

Donald whipped out his phone. "Hey Joe, me and some friends are going to hang out next week, you wanna tag along?" He hit send and collapsed into the chair.

When Joe got the notification from Donald, he almost didn't open it. But Barack, who was grading papers with him, insisted he did. 

"Come on, it might uh, be something good." He goaded. 

"You're horrible for my self-control," Joe muttered as he opened it. He almost couldn't believe his eyes.

"He wants to hang out with me? But I thought..." Joe looked over to his best friend, who was smiling with a gleam in his eyes. 

"Well! Accept the invite already!" He urged. Joe did so, his fingers shaking as he typed out the words. Donald sent him more details and that was that.

"Holy shit man." The stunned man whispered.

The day before the cabin, Donald told Joe that three of his friends had canceled for various reasons, and he understood if the Cabin didn't sound like as much fun anymore. He also said that his friend Mike was still going to go if Joe was interested.

Again, Barack convinced his friend to still go. Of course, he was nervous about the trip, and the idea of spending leisure time with Donald after the last time, but his best friend was an incredibly convincing man.

Neither Donald nor Joe knew their best friends' involvement in what was to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a really long chapter lmao. It was originally gonna be longer but I cut it off and made it chapter 5. Also, go home. Call your mother figure. She's worried about you. What are you waiting to find in this fic

Chapter 4

The entire drive up to the cabin was silent. This time, they had opted for Joe's car, seeing as a Jeep in the snowy Pennsylvania winter wasn't the best idea. Both were feeling a sick kind of apprehension in regards to the coming day. As with the beach day, they had headed out early. The plan was for Joe to drive Donald home once the night came to a close.

Joe's silence felt oppressive in the warm car, and Donald feared what it meant. Maybe he didn't want to come and only accepted out of pity or something of that sort. By this point, his friend's odd habits and frequent silences were customary, but the stretching period without a single word was hollowing.

They pulled into the cabin garage and parked.

Donald flashed his best smile, "You ready to go in?" He was aiming for charming, maybe something to relieve some of the tension. It seemed to have the opposite effect.

"Y-yeah..." Joe opened his door quickly and jumped out of the car, then stood awkwardly waiting for Donald to lead the way.

He also got out of the car and opened the door to the cabin. It was more of a rustic upper-middle-class house than a cabin if they were being honest. It was fitted out with the latest technology, and the biting cold from outside didn't even touch the toasty warm interior. Joe couldn't help but marvel at it. Mike was lounging on the couch, messaging someone with a goofy smile on his face.

The soft rock music playing from the sound system drowned out the now roaring wind. 

"Hey, Mike! Texting someone important?" Donald said, his tone playful. His best friend jumped up suddenly, a blush marring his face, and he spun around.

"When did you two get here??" He demanded, avoiding the question. Joe stayed silent, not sure what to say and feeling out of place. He wanted to fold into himself. This was a horrible idea.

"Just now. Mike, you already know my friend Joe. He's your current flings best friend, so it would be negligent to not know him." 

"For the last time! We're just friends!"

"Funny, Barack always says the same thing," Joe muttered, a small smile adorning his face. The focus shifting to his best friend's love interest emboldened him.

"He talks about me?" Mike said, awe in his voice. 

"Just as much as you do him," Donald added in, bumping his shoulder into Joe's, a smile on his face. He moved towards one of the many love seats circled by a fireplace and massive entertainment stand. 

"I don't talk about him!" Mike broke out of his temporary moment of shy happiness to defend himself.

"It's okay, I can't get Barack to shut up about you. Donald can't get you to shut up about him." Joe sat on a couch near Donald's love seat. 

"I... He's just really nice okay?"

"I sure hope he is. Anyone less can't be dating my best wingman." Donald muttered as he looks through the movie collection. "You guys wanna watch a movie?"

"You know what Don if you're gonna bad mouth me I might as well tell Joe here just how mu-" Mike is cut off by Donald lunging at him and covering his mouth. Joe thought he heard him say 'one more word and you're a dead man' but he wasn't sure. 

He desperately wanted to know what Mike was going to says, but he feared it wouldn't be anything good. 

"ANYWAYS! Movies? Joe?"

"How much he talks about what?"

The two men said it at the same time, and much to Joe's confusion, Mike started to laugh, his frame shaking as his hands clutch his sides and he leaned over. 

If looks could kill, Joe was certain Donald would make good on his promise. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Well if you're so keen on keeping what's under his nose there," Donald punched his best friend lightly, a mixture of fear and nervous happiness in his face, "then I'm down to watch some Christmas movies."

The three of them decided on some random B-rate movie, 'Home Alone', or something like that. It wasn't technically a Christmas movie, but it worked.

Halfway through the movie, Mike got a call and he walked away to take it. They hear paniced talking, and then he hung up and rushed back to the livingroom.

"I am so sorry, I have to go. You guys stay here and have fun without me okay?" He barely managed to finish his sentence before he slammed the door and his car backed out of the garage and sped away.

Joe and Donald looked at each other wide-eyed for a moment before they both looked away. 

Donald couldn't help but focus on the fact that they were alone together, watching a movie, to just hang out. He didn't know what to do. They had been alone together before of course, plenty of times. But those had been different. 

Joe was sitting on a couch a couple of feet away from him, eyes focused a little too hard on the T.V. . Donald looked away before he got caught.

"If you want we can go to? I don't want to..." His voice trailed off. Joe jumped at the words, his face reddening.

"I mean... Mike told us- we don't- don't have to-to stay here and. Stay here and have fun. It's a long drive. Might as well... We could always? hang out? a little while - at least right?" His hands were playing with the sleeves of his sweater, picking at the threads. 

"Exactly! It would be stupid to go back now!" Donald cringed at his words. They came out too harsh.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! We can... Watch movies or something."

"Sounds. Sounds f-fun."

"Yeah." Donald stopped looking at the other man and looked at the screen. The little kid was lost and asking some creepy looking man in a suit for directions. The chandelier in the background looked nice. "There are other things to do here too." He added after a couple of minutes.

"After... After a couple- maybe in a little while, we could. We can do something else?" Joe hated how his brain was running faster than his mouth. His only consolation was that Donald had never yet pointed out his stutter. There was no way he hadn't noticed it.

"That sounds good. You can choose the next movie if you want?"

"That sounds good."

The rest of the movie passed in silence. Joe got up to find another movie, when suddenly a loud crack shattered the peace that had somehow crept in. Then, it went completely dark. 

Joe felt Donald's hand on his arm. 

"What was that?" He demanded to the man who was somehow still sitting.

"Power must have gone out." He stood and walked over to the closed curtains hiding the window. When he looked outside he cursed.

"What?" Joe demanded.

"Blizzard. Must have knocked out power. Back up generated will be on soon though." His words were both chilling, more so than the rapidly cooling room, and reassuring. "Shit you must be cold huh, come on I'll get you a blanket or something." 

Donald grabbed Joe's hand in the dark as he said the words, and Joe was suddenly thankful for the darkness. The taller man tugged him closer to avoid him tripping as he guided them through the dark. 

Joe almost ran into a wall, but last-minute his guide pulled him to the side softly. It just so happened that to the side was closer to Donald. 

They stopped, presumably in front of a linen closet, and Donald groped around for a soft blanket for his guest. He found one and then, squeezing Joe's hand before letting it go, layed the blanket around his shoulders. The lights flashed on as the generator kicked on, and they were suddenly confronted with each other.

The taller man's hands were hovering above Joe's shoulders hesitantly, his mouth slightly open. Joe's heart was running and he suddenly wished for the darkness to return.

"You okay Joe?" Donald said softly, staring into his eyes.

"Yeah," Joe whispered back, unable to look away.

They somehow both cleared their throats and look away.

"We should... See if we can check the weather. Or something." It sounded lame, but Donald couldn't stand another moment of whatever this was. Joe stumbled backward and began walking back to the living room. With a sigh, the confused man followed him slowly. 

"Shit," Joe muttered as he opened his phone.

"What?"

"No service."

"Oh."

"Where's the bathroom?" 

"That way." 

And with that, Joe fled to the bathroom. He needed to process this. As the door slammed shut behind him, he tried to assess his situation. He was stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no connection to anyone, with the man he had been in love with since he was a child. 

As had become customary since the start of the school year, Joe pinched himself to make sure it was real. It was.

His mind started racing. What if? And then they could... Maybe Donald would? And!

He stopped himself before his thoughts got out of control. Donald didn't like him like that. They were barely friends. He was lucky to be here at all. Joe didn't even know if the other man hated him or not.

Suddenly he felt sick. What if this was some kinda joke? It would explain a lot...

He did his breathing exercises quickly. The blizzard should be over in a couple of hours, and then they can go home andpretend this never happened. 

It was probably for the best. They could go back to the weird limbo their friendship existed in, Donald would never figure out Joe's crush, and maybe one day they could be actual friends.

That was the exact opposite thing Donald was wishing for in the living room. After his internal freakout, involving him realizing he had gotten his friend and maybe crush stuck in the middle of a blizzard, he realized this was the perfect chance for them to become better friends.

If he was lucky, the blizzard might even last all night! And then they would have no choice but to bond over the experience. With this mindset in place, Donald relaxed onto the couch once again. Once Joe came back, they could talk about it and figure out what to do next.

At just that moment, Joe walked out, looking slightly frazzled. 

"You okay Joey?" 

"Uuuuh, ye-yeah I'm... Good." Joe stood at the entrance to the living room, the blanket still slung around his shoulder like a cape. 

"Good! It would probably be best for us to wait out the blizzard. Until then, there's plenty to do here!" Magically, Donald excitement vanquished the majority of Joe's worry. He was genuinely excited to spend time together.

"That sounds fun." As per usual, Joe was oblivious to the reaction he words and actions caused in Donald.

Donald's reply was barely audible, said airily. "Yeah." 

They both stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"I could show you around? If you want?" He offered after a while. Joe nodded silently. He watched as his crush stood up and walked towards the hall.

"We can start on this floor. As you can already see, this is the living room, or the 'entertainment center' as Tucker calls it." He gestured to the room and Joe felt himself smile.

"I can see it. And over there it looks like a fancy kitchen?" He said softly. Donald smiled at the words, Joe didn't seem so off anymore.

"Yeah, that's where we cook when we stay here longer. It's usually fully stocked, so if you're hungry at all we can get snacks or make something."

"Okay."

"Um. Here, down this hall, there's the gaming room." Donald led Joe into another massive room filled with old pinball machines, a dance system, board games, and many many arcade games. He felt his breath leave his lungs. It was amazing. And then Donald was leading him away. 

"You've already seen the bathroom and closet," he said as he guided the curly-haired man to a stairway, "and that's all the first floor has. We can look at the basement, or upstairs, your choice."

"Basement?" Joe asked. This prompted Donald to start walking down the stairs.

"Yeah! It's not that big, but it's pretty cool." He said as he walked ahead and flicked on the light. Joe could see that it was just one massive room. To his surprise, there was a fully functioning large hot top in the corner of the tiled floor.

There was also a pool table.

"Why?" Joe asked simply, completely baffled.

"Why what?" Donald looked back at him. He was now taller than Donald because he was still on the steps. It was strange to be the one looking up at the beautiful man. 

"Why is there. A hot tub. In your basement?" Joe couldn't contain his bafflement and began to laugh. Soon, his hands were clutching the banister as his laughter consumed him.

Donald, to his credit, tried to understand Joe's reaction. "Because? We uh. We wanted one?" 

Joe didn't respond, his laughter is too strong as he gasped for breath. Donald thought there was something magical about the sight.

And then, Joe lost his balance and fell down the stairs. Donald caught him in his big, strong arms before he fell to the ground.

Joe looked up at him, tears of laughter still brimming in his eyes. "Thanks." He said, small giggles still erupting from his mouth. "Upstairs now?" He asked.

"Yeah." Despite his words, Donald couldn't move, his body frozen with Joe giggling in his arms.

After a moment, the shorter man stood up and began to walk up the stairs. He had realized what he was doing and suddenly remembered himself. So he fled quickly before Donald could see the embarrassment painted on his face. After a moment, he heard Donald following him up the steps.

They walked up to the second story without words, but once Joe saw what the second story opened up into, he couldn't help the peals of laughter that fell from him once again. 

"What now!" Donald demanded playfully, standing firmly behind Joe in case he fell again.

"You have -hic- a massive, hahaha, fucking???" His words dissolved as he tried to gather his breath to speak. He seemed to be forcing himself to calm down. "It's just a massive fucking bedroom! Why!" He said before completely collapsing into body wrenching laughter again. 

Before responding, Donald guided him off the steps to keep him safe. "I don't get what's so funny?" He said softly as he watched Joe try to suck in air as he laughed.

"What's the point!" He shouted through his humor.

"We needed a bedroom? For overnight stays? If someone wanted a bed?" Donald was looking around the room now for something that could bring someone so much mirth.

Finally, Joe seemed to be done with his laughter. "I'm sorry I just... I don't see why it needs to be so big and lavish." His smile must have been hurting his face, "Like, why is the bed so big? Why is there only one chair? If you guys wanted a room for overnight, why not multiple rooms?" 

Donald couldn't keep up with the questions. He didn't know the answers. Ted had mostly been in charge of design. So he shrugged his shoulders. Joe giggled at that, which made Donald give a similar huff of laughter.

Donald looked at the aforementioned SINGLE bed, and his thoughts began to wander. His throat felt tight, and the room hotter than it should. Joe saw where he's looking, and suddenly the awkward energy from earlier was back. 

They quickly headed downstairs. 

As it had been a while since they arrived, they agreed to make something to eat. Instead of going to logical route, like the sophisticated adults they were, they decided to make a blueberry pie. 

They made a huge mess, and both ate the blueberry stuffing so much that they had to make a second batch as the pie crust rose. 

As Joe watched Donald flick smushed blueberry at him, he realized something. He was in love. At some point, his long time crush on the obnoxious, loud, caring, persistent man, had turned into more. True, genuine love. He would do anything for the other. 

It wasn't much later, when the pie was in the oven and their blueberry caked hands were eating from a shared bag of chips, that Donald realized he liked the man beside him as more than just a friend. He had spent years pushing him away and thinking of him as a rival, someone to be hated and beaten. But once he got to know the intelligent French Professor, he quickly lost his footing and fell for him.

Both men said nothing of their realizations. When the pie was ready, they pulled it out of the oven and ate it hot. It made them both forget the blizzard raging outside.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. After they finished the pie, Donald pulled out some wine and silently offered it to Joe.

He accepted it with a smile, and they sipped on it as they played board games.

The night approached before either of them were ready for it, but by the fourth time Joe nodded off, Donald suggested they go to sleep.

"If you want, I can carry you to bed again?" Donald said as they stood, the wine making him less careful with his words.

Joe looked over at him, his lightly red cheeks darkening slightly. Donald noticed his eyelashes fluttering. "Again?" His voice is light, more carefree than Donald had ever heard it. It made his heart race. At the same time, it's confused, telling Donald that the bubbly man didn't remember the night after the beach.

"You remember how you fell asleep in my car after the beach?" Donald said as he looked down at his hands. Joe looked a lot of soberer suddenly.

"Yeah?" His stomach was sinking. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what was coming next.

And then Donald smiled up at him. "Well, you... You asked me to carry you inside. So I did. And I tucked you into bed too." The nervous excitement of the words ran through the veins of both men.

"Oh god," Joe said as his hands hit his face. Shame coursed through him, and at the same time, the joy that Donald had done that and not mentioned it.

Warm hands rested on his shoulders, and when he looked up, Donald was smiling down at him. He couldn't take the emotional rollercoaster.

"So, uh, DO? you want me to carry you to bed Repunzul?" The nickname stirred something in Joe, what it was he couldn't tell. Without giving his body permission too, he nodded, and a smile split across his face. 

Donald looked at him for a moment. His face was one of silent awe and adoration. 

Carefully, he scooped Joe up as he had before, gently positioning the shorter man's body in his arms. Joe looked at him with wide eyes as his arms flew tightly around Donald's neck. They stood there a moment. Silent.

"This okay?" Donald whispered, his breath hitting Joe's hair and ruffling it just slightly.

Joe nodded numbly. 

When Donald began to walk, Joe relaxed slightly. The strong arms surrounding him were assured, solid next to his body. He felt himself cuddling closer to the strong chest, and held his breath, waiting for Donald's response. The only one he found was a gentle smile.

When they reached the stairs, Joe tightened his grip on Donald's neck and buried his head into his chest. The entire was up, however, was mostly smooth, without dilemma. 

As Donald finally stood in the large open room, he mentally cursed himself. Just as Joe had pointed out, there was only one bed.

Without saying a word, he placed Joe onto the massive bed, then moved towards the recliner.

Joe stood. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna sleep in the recliner. If it wasn't for me you wouldn't be stuck here so. You get the bed." He sat down.

"Yeah but that's not fair! Here, I'll take the recliner. the guest here anyways." Joe moved towards the recliner, but Donald's arm gently stopped him.

"Nonsense. If you're the guest it would make more sense for you to get the bed either way."

"This is why I said the design of this room makes no sense." Joe looked away, stubbornly refusing to mentally acknowledge that Donald's hand was still gently pressed to his chest.

"Doesn't matter now. Plus, you'll sleep better in the bed Sleepy." Donald's hand moved slightly, to curl over Joe's heart. Joe prayed the other couldn't feel it racing. 

"Well then sleep in the bed with me," Joe exclaimed. His eyes went wide as he realized what he had said. "I- I mean. It's a big bed. We can share it and both have plenty of space."

Neither shared the immediate thought that maybe, despite space, they would end up together.

"O-okay. That works." Donald's hand tightened on Joe's shirt, seemingly reflexively. 

"Okay..." They again looked away from each other. "Do you guys have any spare clothes I can use for pajamas?"

"Yeah, we uh, we all keep a couple of spare pairs of clothes here. You can borrow a pair of mine..." Donald moved away and walked over to the walk-in closet. He gestured for Joe to follow, and he did so apprehensively.

Donald showed Joe where he kept his spare clothes and allowed him to choose which ones he wanted to wear for the night. With a beating heart, Joe grabbed an oversized old t-shirt and a pair of shorts. 

"I'm gonna, go get changed." He mumbled. Donald nodded. This was a bad idea. When he had given Joe his sweater and hadn't realized his feelings for the mousely man, it had been hard enough. Now, they would be sleeping in the same bed. And Joe would be wearing his clothes. 

He gulped. 

Closing the closet door for a moment, he also pulled on some pajamas. When he re-entered the room, Joe was sitting on the edge of the bed, with obvious nerves. Trying to get the worse part out of the way, Donald walked over to the opposite side of the bed and quickly got under the covers, laying on his back.

Joe slowly followed.

For a while, both layed there, unable to fall asleep, their backs facing one another.

Then, Joe's voice softly hit Donald's ears. "When I was little, I wanted to be a teacher. Then I grew older, and I started to think it was a stupid goal." He whispered, seemingly for no reason.

Donald rolled over to look at him. "What happened? You obviously became a professor?"

"I met this guy," a puff of air left his chest in a laugh, he wouldn't say the guy he had met was in bed beside him.

"Yeah?" Donald asked, a sudden ping of jealousy.

"Yeah. I just... Wanted to prove myself. So I kept pushing myself to be better. Remember how I graduated early?" Neither of them had brought up their childhood in the months of their friendship, as though it was taboo.

"Yeah... To pursue French." Donald's voice hitched. Did he know this guy when they were younger?

"Yeah. I thought... I don't know. Maybe he would notice me. He didn't, but..." Joe sighed. He didn't know why he was saying any of this.

"That guy must have been an idiot," Donald said with conviction. He couldn't believe someone had been so brain dead as to not worship the ground Joe had walked on. Surely the guy must have noticed Joe's affections. How could he not return them?

Joe chuckled fondly. "Yeah. He still is. What about you?" 

Donald wasn't sure what he meant, so he left it up for interpretation. Feeling brave from the alcohol still swimming through him, he took a risk.

"When we were kids. There was this guy. I lost track of him after I graduated, and then I met him again. He..." Donald didn't know what to say without giving away that he was talking about Joe.

On the other side of the bed, Joe turned to look at Donald in the dim light.

"He?" The question fell from his lips with a double meaning. This was the first time he was receiving confirmation that Donald liked men. And... That there was a guy he liked... Or had liked. Joe almost hated whoever it was.

"He. I don't know. Life's complicated Rapunzel." Donald laughter dryly. Joe didn't press him.

They were quiet for a while, and eventually, Donald realized Joe had fallen asleep. He reached over to pull the covers higher over him to keep him warm, and fell asleep too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter. It's definitely the shortest. I don't know what you want to find here man. I hope you find it. I realize now I won't be able to reply to any possible comments. O.O. don't comment and expose yourself for reading this man. Go home. Go to sleep. It's late.

Chapter 5

Ever since childhood, Joe had woken up in the middle of the night for seemingly no reason. It was something he was accustomed to, and by 26, something he begrudgingly accepted. So when he woke up that night, he didn't think much of it. Beyond of course the passing thought that he hadn't been so comfortable sleeping in a bed in years. 

His body was enveloped in a soft and comforting heat, and a nice weight rested against his back. It was so relaxing that he almost fell back asleep instantly.

And then he felt a light breathe ghosting his neck.

And he remembered what had happened just before he fell asleep, and where he was, and who he was with. Joe's mind stalled. Somehow, in their sleep, Donald had ended up spooning him. His arms were loosely wrapped around Joe's torso, their legs were tangled, and the taller man's chest was pressed softly against his back. 

The icing on the cake was Donald's face right behind Joe's head. 

Joe began to freak out. What if Donald woke up? How was he going to explain this? What would happen? Would their friendship be ruined? He felt light-headed. Despite the building anxiety, strangely enough, he couldn't help but relish in the feeling of Donald holding him.

"Mmm." For a second, Joe thought the man holding him had woken up, but he simply moved closer, and his arms tighten minutely.

Terrified of waking the other up, Joe stayed as still-

SNAP.

The electricity popped off, and before Joe had time to assess what was happening, Donald was awake, pulling him impossibly closer and resting his head on the curls of the one he held.

"What the fuck was that." He demanded from above Joe, who couldn't think. Donald's chin pressed into the mop of curls as his arms stayed firmly wrapped around the torso in front of him.

Realizing that Joe wasn't going to answer him, Donald tried to look down in the darkness to make sure he was okay. Then he seemed to realize the position they were in. How Joe's body was slotted easily in-between his arms. The way his legs curled protectively over the other. How Joe wasn't making any movement to change any of that.

"Hey uh. You okay?" He said after a moment, hoping to assess what the other man thought of the situation. 

"Ye-yeah." Was the only response he got, and it was squeaked out as Joe tried to shrink himself in the arms of the other. Donald dimly realized that his crush was clutching his arm as tightly as he was clutching the other's chest. 

"Is this okay?" Donald whispered, moving his head closer to Joe's ear and praying it was.

Trying his hardest to simply manage a coherent thought, Joe almost missed the question. Once his brain registered it, he ducked his head and tried to find a way to respond without giving anything away.

After a period of complete silence in which the big spoon began to curse every decision he had ever made, Joe finally managed to whisper an affirmation. 

"Oh. Okay." Donald managed from above. Internally, he was freaking out. He didn't know what to next, what to say, how to say it. Luckily, Joe did it for him.

"You smell nice." He wasn't sure why he said it, or how it slipped out; Donald didn't seem to mind if the way his arms tightened slightly and his breathing speeding up were any indication.

"So do. So do you." He strangled out, his throat feeling hoarse. He didn't know why Joe had said it, or how to feel about what he had said. He did know that it felt as though he had died and managed to meet Saint Peter.

"Thanks." Joe began to fidget after speaking, subconsciously tensing and untensing his fingers on the arms that held him. He realized what he was doing and stopped, but didn't move his hands.

"If... If this is uncomfortable at all... I can let you go?" Donald asked, his body contradicting what he had said by tensing and moving to hold Joe more securely.

Due to massive amounts of anxiety and misunderstanding, both manage to interpret the words of the other as subtle hints at discomfort, and they untangle their bodies. Donald scootted away, cursing his idiocy for losing the one thing he wanted most at the moment; Joe cursed his own for fucking up the best thing to ever happen to him.

"Were you ever scared of the dark?" Joe asked, unable to take the silence.

"Yeah, I'm. I'm still scared of it. I know it's silly but. Still." He hated to admit it, especially to Joe, but he wanted to be more vulnerable, and the darkness felt as though it had opened a hole in his chest.

"Oh. Um. I'm sorry." Joe had to admit, that was the perfect thing to use to get them to be so close again. If Donald was scared of the dark, being next to someone else might comfort him.

"It's uh. It's gonna get super cold in here. And it sounds like the blizzard is really bad still. We can. We can grab more blankets?" Despite his offer, Donald loathed the idea of getting out of the bed and going downstairs in the dark.

"If it's okay... I. I don't want to leave the bed... It's already cold and dark and-" As far as he could tell, there weren't any spare blankets in the room, and walking down the stairs in pitch dark sounded like a horrible idea. 

"Are you cold?" 

"I. Yeah a little bit." 

"Oh."

Both huddled into themselves from their respective places. Then, deciding to take a shot, no matter where it landed, Joe spoke.

"If you want. You could sit with me. We'll be warmer, and if you're scared of the dark-" he had barely finished his sentence before Donald moved over to him and touched his arm.

"Where?" He asked, elated that the cuddling might continue.

"Oh um. Here." With gentle arms, Joe guided Donald to sit in his lap and wrapped his body lightly around the other. They were both quiet for a long minute. Then, Joe gathered the blankets around the pair and wrapped them in a cone style around their bodies. The blankets and their combined body heat somehow managed to warm them both again.

Joe leaned back against the headboard, unable to believe this was happening. With heart racing, Donald leaned back too, following him, until their chest and back met. Timidly Joe wrapped his arms around the man's chest, pressing him closer. 

They stayed that way for a while, as they both relaxed into each other. 

"The generator is supposed to kick back on eventually," Donald mumbled, trying to keep himself from falling asleep against Joe's rhythmically breathing chest.

"Are there candles we could light to keep out the dark?" Joe said softly, his breath fanning Donald's ear lightly, betraying again how close they were.

"I'd rather stay here," Donald admitted without thinking.

"What about the dark?" 

"I don't mind it if we're like this." This time, Donald was able to FEEL the way Joe's heart started to beat at his words, something that confused him until the other man spoke.

"Really? Is that so?" Joe's voice was teasing, the darkness emboldening him. His arms squeezed Donald's chest for a moment before resting again. 

"Ye-yeah. It's... Nice. Really Nice." Donald prayed that Joe couldn't feel his heart beating as well as he could feel the others.

Joe rested his head on Donald's. "Yeah. It IS nice huh Donnie?" There was the playful lilt again. Joe wasn't sure what he was thinking, but he had a feeling it was right.

"You know, usually I'm the one teasing you." Not that he was complaining.

"What?" Joe asked, his voice still breathless and teasing.

"Normally I'm trying to get you like this, not the other way around."

Joe leaned back suddenly, comprehension hitting him. "Wait. Donald, are you saying what I think you're saying." His voice was filled with trepidation and exhilaration.

"What do you THINK I'm saying?" Subconsciously, Donald followed Joe's body heat, his head gently resting under Joe's chin. When he spoke, Donald could feel his chin bumping the top of his head.

"I THINK you're telling me my childhood crush-" Joe was cut off by Donald turning around abruptly.

"Childhood crush?? You liked me when we were kids too?" He asked, pieces falling into place perfectly.

Joe chuckled nervously. "Still do. Is that okay?"

"Can I kiss you?" Donald asked breathlessly as his hands landed on Joe's cheek, framing his face and holding him still.

And then they kiss. I'm not writing that shit out tho lmao. Pretend it's some sweet kissing action here tho.

When the generator powers back on, Joe's lips are still pressed reverently against Donald's. They pull apart and smile at each other. 

"Hey." Joe whispers, look at the other softly.

"Hey."

"Still scared of the dark?"

"I think I'll need you to hold me every time it gets dark actually." 

"I'm okay with that." Joe rests his head on Donald's shoulder and sighs.

A couple of hours later, the blizzard weakens enough for them to get a signal.

They're sitting on the couch, watching some movie, when their phones buzz with messages from their respective best friends. 

Barack had wished Joe good luck for some reason, with a winking face.

Mike had been more overt. 

It was several more hours before they would be able to safely drive home, but strangely enough, the pair stayed for a full extra day 'to be safe'.

And then they grow up, grow apart, become horrible men, and in 30 years run for president and destroy America 🥰. And no, they don't do anything PG 13 at the cabin 😳 wake up kid. Go to school.


End file.
